


A Lesson for the Unaware

by volatile_hearts



Series: Eclectic Tastes Indeed [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Rebuilt Hale House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatile_hearts/pseuds/volatile_hearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, Stiles decided to declare an open challenge to see who could drink the most Mountain Dew in the least amount of time. Because really, what else did you do with that much soda?</p><p>Why he ever thought this was a rational decision to make is a mystery, because he is now surrounded by a five teenage werewolves on a caffeine high. This is either the best thing that has happened to him since he learned werewolves were a thing or the worst.</p><p>[6). Crack**, 1- Stiles Stilinski]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson for the Unaware

Never leave a bunch of bored teenagers in your house. Especially if they have super-human werewolf powers.

Somehow the pack had gotten hold of a ludicrous amount of Mountain Dew. Beyond famous black-rapper levels of ludicrous and seriously edging towards ridiculous, obscene, and this is just stupid levels of ludicrous.

So, of course, Stiles decided to declare an open challenge to see who could drink the most of it in the least amount of time. Because really, what else did you do with that much soda?

Why he ever thought this was a rational decision to make is a mystery, because he is now surrounded by a five teenage werewolves on a caffeine high. This is either the best thing that has happened to him since he learned werewolves were a thing or the worst.

Fun fact: werewolf metabolism can only process a certain quantity of chemicals without being affected; they are not, in fact, completely immune. A speed up metabolism can only do so much for you.

It just takes an outrageous amount of the substance that would kill most humans, but when you're surrounding by 26 shopping carts brimming with litres of high-caffeine content soda. Those amounts suddenly become very achievable. Stiles still has no idea how Erica and Boyd managed to drag them up to the newly renovated Hale house, but he doesn't really want to think about it. Or about exactly how they acquired it, but regardless of where it had come from, all of them had taken him up on his challenge. Except Lydia who refused to participate in something so immature and clearly beneath her. She was now sitting in an armchair near the corner, a little further away from the mayhem, like a queen in a kingdom full of idiots who is too benevolent to murder them all in their sleep for the sheer mountains of stupidity they send her way.

Stiles was kind of bummed that the caffeine didn't affect him much. Before he was diagnosed, Mountain Dew had been his favorite soda. He was always begging his mom to buy it for him. After he was diagnosed, he's had to be a little more carefully about mixing his stimulants. Too much, and he'll feel too focused to really do anything, to the point where he wants to scream or brutally maim anyone who tries to interrupt him at his task.

Those first months or even the first year of trying to get the right dosage and combination of meds had been hard.

Right now though, he was mostly bummed he didn't have a video camera to record this shit. For posterity's sake, so he could show the future wolflings how idiotic their pack really is.

Erica is currently ripping apart throw pillows with her teeth. Her eyes wide and gleaming gold. Stiles could barely make out what she was saying around the fabric and goose feathers in her mouth. Something about how Derek has awful taste in colors and she's doing this as a service to him.

Stiles and Allison had dropped out of the competition early, but were now clutching their sides laughing, barely supporting each other's weight where they were slumped against the couch.

Both Isaac and Scott complained that they could hear the electricity buzzing and are now trying to fix the problem by removing the lightbulbs from the fixture above them.

While it's still on.

Isaac is attempting to remove the hot bulb, hissing and quickly retracting his fingers every time they started to burn against the glass. Gingerly screwing the bulb out little by little, while balancing atop of Scott, who is balancing atop the coffee table, which is in front of Stiles and Allison. They couldn't be bothered to go and find a ladder or - god forgive - a step stool; far too impatient to wait the entire minute it would take to find one.

A loud crash sounds through the open walkway that connected to the kitchen. Stiles crawls over the couch to hang his arms over the back of the couch to see what is was.

Boyd and Jackson have apparently found the source of the - in their own words - 'good smell.' All of the cabinets are thrown open, and objects the two wolves had deemed uninteresting lay discarded wherever they landed after being tossed away. The fridge door is swinging slightly, Stiles notices, and a glass container of something resembling homemade cranberry sauce is laying at the foot of the refrigerator, splattered along its shelves and all over the floor.

Stiles is about to suggest that Boyd and Jackson share the tupperware container that they are now trying to pull from the other's grasp like five year olds, when he sees that the trash can sitting on it's side, and garbage scattered across the kitchen.

He dissolves into another fit of giggles. It reminds him so horribly of last time Stiles ever gave into Scott's puppy eyes and agreed to take care of the foster dog Scott was looking after on behalf of Deaton. The McCalls were going on a three-day vacation to visit Scott's grandmother, and the one-year-old dog just couldn't be left on its one, and please Stiles? It's just for a few days. To be fair, Scott had warned him that the dog had a lot of energy and needed to exercised very regularly. Stiles didn't realize that regularly meant that if he missed one morning walk because he woke up late and had to rush to class, that he would come home to his kitchen destroyed and food and trash everywhere. The jokes about Jackson being an untrained, havoc-wreaking puppy are endless.

Scott and Isaac have apparently given up on the lightbulbs and where now rooting around in the hallway linen closet. Scott lets out a cry of joy and races back into the living room with a roll of toilet paper held high above his head. And Isaac chasing after him for it. Erica pauses in her redecorating (the couch is as stupid color as the throw pillows) and slips into the closet.

She comes back with armfuls of the stuff and a sinister grin on her face as Isaac and Scott made another lap around the room. Boyd now has Jackson in a headlock. The food lies forgotten on the floor between them. Erica pegs both of them squarely in the head with a roll of toilet paper, and literally cackles with laughter when they turn their attention on her.

Boyd releases Jackson to pick up the toilet paper. He and Jackson take a moment. They look at each other, then sport matching grins of revenge as they turn towards Erica. They come after her so quickly that she abandons the rest of the rolls in her haste to get ahead of them.

The roll Scott first took has somehow unraveled, and is now streaming around the room.

Stiles grins evilly, picking up some of the toilet paper Erica dropped and offering one to Allison. She grins in return and takes the roll. They start flinging them around the room at the running werewolves.

It's an all out war now. Rolls are flying everywhere, draping the entire room in flimsy paper. Stiles thinks there might be teams, but he can't tell who sided with who. All he knows is that he, Allison, and Lydia have strategically placed themselves on the edges of the room. Stiles has liberated some of the less mauled cushions to make a fort, and they are throwing rolls to each other and at anyone and everyone who crosses their path. The werewolves are chasing and pouncing on each other amongst the debris of the living room, inflicting TP related torture when they can.

There are shrieks of delight and peals of laughter, and Stiles hasn't felt this happy and light in a long time. Usually, the pack is so busy running for their lives or gripping at each other desperately as whatever new menace tries to pull them away that they never get to relax and just enjoy being together. He loves his ramshackle pack fiercely, and would die for them any given day. But it's nice to be reminded why he is so willing to risk his life for them.

Because now he's laughing so hard his stomach hurts and his eyes are watery.

Erica has Isaac pinned to the ground and is stuffing the innards of a couch cushion in his mouth. Scott has half of his body wrapped in toilet paper. He and Boyd appear to be in the process of turning Jackson into some sort of mummy. It's not working very well, since Jackson keeps squirming and getting away. Between the three of them, Stiles thinks it looks like some deranged form of monkey in the middle.

The wolves freeze, stock still, and the humans follow half a second behind their packmates. Someone is walking up the steps and through the door.

No one moves as Derek walks down the hallway and stops in front of the living room.

Stiles can't imagine the picture they make. Room destroyed; empty, bright green, two-liter soda bottles stacked precariously, feathers settling slowly like dust, and toilet paper everywhere: on the furniture, on the walls, on the ceiling - Stiles isn't even sure how that works - and every single one of them with eyes as big as saucers with the very distinct oh shit! we've been caught look plastered on their faces.

There's a moment of silence and Derek doesn't look like he knows how to react when the lightbulb Isaac was trying to remove falls out of its socket and shatters on the coffee table.

It's too much for Stiles. He breaks down into maniac laughter; gripping his sides and squeezing his eyes tight. He's gasping for breath and he's sure he's crying now, but it's just so goddamn funny.

His eyesight is blurry, but he looks up just in time, to see Derek chuck a toilet paper roll at his head and hit him with deadly accuracy. The impact catches him off guard and causes Stiles to fall over backwards. There's a beat of stunned silence after he disappears behind the walls of his fort.

Then Stiles pops up from behind his fort with the offending roll clutched in his hand, and screams "REVENGE!" as he climbs over the walls of slightly-less destroyed couch cushions, and over the rest of the furniture. Running towards Derek, who starts darting just out of Stiles reach with a small smirk on his face.

And just like that, everything dissolves into madness as everyone gangs up on Derek to take him down. There is more shrieking, the kind of delighted scream of false terror that normally only small children indulge in and so much laughter; it fills the walls with its bubbling sound. Everyone one is smiling. No matter where he looks he can see someone's face pulled into a smile.

And Stiles is so damn happy, this house feels alive in ways it hasn't in a long time. They all do.

**Author's Note:**

> ** So, this started out as a fulfillment of the prompt and got away from me in very unexpected ways. Clearly a lot of headcanon and hopes for the future stuffed into this. (like rebuilding the Hale house and filling it with new memories). I just really want them all to be happy. They deserve a break and it is long overdue.
> 
> Inspired by the way your house gets destroyed when you leave hyperactive puppies unsupervised in your homes. I imagine it would be ten times worse with teenage werewolves.
> 
> EDIT: if it wasn't clear that this was written a long time ago, allow my bitter manic laughter and angry tears to make it more so.


End file.
